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Thursday, July 26, 2007

Dog Blog: One Week

I won't bore you with my life story, but let's just say I ended up in the klink. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, I suppose, but jail is jail, and I was a little freaked out.

I've never been able to get along with other dogs, and the kennel amplifies their voices something awful. Have you ever tried to sleep while a chihuahua mix rabbits on and on reciting the dog rosary? Or while a basset hound sings the blues all night?

They put me through all kinds of tests and things, and I have to admit, I wigged out a little bit. Not my finest hour. I ended up back in the kennel, feeling like the end of the world was coming. That's about when they showed up.

There were six of them; four small ones, one huge one with as much hair on his face as I have, and one that was clearly the momma. I liked her right away. They met me outside, and I was so relieved to be in the yard, being petted. The kids weren't bad, I just didn't know what to do with them. So I ignored them, and let everyone scratch me behind the ears. The big hairy guy found that spot at the base of my tail, and when the staff took me out front again, and the whole group led me to their car... I didn't know what to think!

It seemed to go pretty well, though they were feeding me that crap from the kennel. The hairy guy has been taking me for walks in the morning, and sometimes I get to walk the kids to school. The only consistent trouble seems to be with rabbits. Apparently they can't see the little beasts, because they never let me chase them down and destroy them. I managed to slip out of the harness once to show them my chops, but they seemed pretty upset that I didn't catch the one I was after.

They took me in the car today, and all was well (I thought we were going to the "doggy store" again to get toys), and we showed up back at the jail. I even recognized a couple of bitches from my cell block. I was terrified they were going to turn me back in or something, but then we didn't go inside. We went over to a grassy area, and had a lady teach them how to handle me. Some of it was pretty rude... telling them how to discipline me sounded like a raw deal... but then it seemed like everything she was teaching them involved giving me treats. The phrase was "positive reinforcement", and the teacher lady made them practice feeding me treats again.

Life is sweet. Let's hope this keeps going.

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